


Player One, Meet Player Two

by Anonymous



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Got this idea after seeing the Junimo Kart endless mode leaderboard, Junimo Kart is painful, M/M, Other, POV Second Person, Sam should be a pro gamer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: As everyone knows, Junimo Kart is nearly impossible to beat. After losing for the umpteenth time on the first level, you're just about ready to call it quits. Prompted by his friends to intervene, Sam tries to help you get through the game.
Relationships: Abigail & Sam & Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Sam/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Sam/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Sam/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58
Collections: Anonymous





	Player One, Meet Player Two

_Game Over._

You groan and slam a fist against the arcade machine. No matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to beat the first level of Junimo Kart, let alone the entire game. “Fuck you, Junimo Kart!”

Abigail looks over at your outburst, eyes wide in slight alarm. Sebastian, being Sebastian, decides to let you blow off steam and remains silent but keeps his eyes on you, just in case.

Sam, on the other hand, is calmly fetching a Joja Cola from the machine beside you and shoots Sebastian an apologetic look for prematurely ending their weekly billiards game. He puts a hand on your shoulder, turns you towards him. “Hey. Don’t take it out on the machine, okay? It doesn’t know any better. I’m sure it’d apologise if it had feelings.”

You cross your arms and mumble something about unfairness. Sam’s mouth quirks upwards in an amused smile. From his place at the pool table, Sebastian clears his throat. “Hey, Sam, don’t you have a high score on that thing?”

Sam flushes, face growing red as he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, something like that. I think Shane and Mayor Lewis are the only ones who’ve beaten my score.”

At this, your gaze snaps towards Sam. “Teach me how to play.” After a second, in which you realise how brusque you were, you add, “Please.”

“W-Wait, what?” Taken aback by your sudden demand, Sam stares at you, uncertain. “You want me to teach you how to play Junimo Kart?”

You nod, allowing yourself to feel hope again after countless miserable defeats, and Abigail gets up to clap a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Aw, come on, Sam, how hard can it be? You beat me at Journey of the Prairie King, and that game’s impossible to beat.”

“I didn’t beat the game, Abigail; I only got to level two. And I don’t know. I’m not a great teacher like Penny.”

“Just teach the farmer how to play the game, Sam,” Sebastian says. “You don’t have to make a fuss about it.”

“Yeah! You two have fun now. Seb and I are going to have some drinks.” Abigail goes over to Sebastian, links her arm with his, starts walking to the bar despite his protests that he doesn’t drink.

Sam looks at you, at a loss for words with his friends’ sudden exits. He smiles meekly, a look you aren’t used to—usually, Sam’s all confidence, all bold and bright and cheery, like the Sun, personified.

Regardless, you return the smile, then glance at the arcade machine to your left, which has reverted to the title screen. “So,” you start, “shall we?”

Despite his reluctance, Sam nods and sets his Joja Cola on the edge of the pool table before returning to you. “Do you want to watch me play first? You could see what I do when I play.”

“Sure.” It saves you the trouble of raging at the machine for at least a few minutes, so you step aside and allow your new mentor to take the metaphorical wheel.

A few minutes turns out to be much longer than you anticipated; Sam is surprisingly good at the game, managing to get coins and fruit and time his jumps perfectly. His single attempt puts your many to shame, but you don’t feel upset. There’s a certain beauty to it, oddly enough. Something in him seems to come alive as he focuses all his attention on the game, much like when he’s playing music with Sebastian and Abigail. It’s as if you’re seeing a whole new side to him, one that’s rarely present when he’s constantly coddled and treated by the townsfolk as if he never exited high school.

A quiet curse escapes his mouth, shocking you out of your trance-like state. “Okay, your turn,” he says, stepping aside to allow you access to the machine.

Alarms go off in your head; you weren’t paying attention the way you should’ve been. You sigh, bracing yourself for an inevitable defeat, and give it your all as you tackle the first level of Junimo Kart. It doesn’t take long for you to see the annoyingly familiar “Game Over” screen, and briefly, you wonder if Sam’s ever considered a career as a professional gamer.

“It’s hopeless,” you lament. “I’m never going to beat this stupid game.”

Sam frowns, shaking his head. “Not with that attitude, you’re not. Here—I’ll guide you.”

“What?” you exclaim. But your confusion is soon replaced with the feeling of Sam's hand on top of yours, warm and startlingly soft in spite of the calluses from playing guitar; his chest is pressed against your back as he leans on you, head tilted slightly to the right so he can view the screen.

“Ready?” he murmurs. You nod, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your face. Knowing Sam, he probably doesn’t realise the effect he’s having on you, but considering he’s smarter than most give him credit for, perhaps he does.

Either way, you’re stuck playing the first level again, this time, relying more on Sam’s help than your instincts and trial and error. All you can focus on is him, how he smells faintly of cinnamon, how you wouldn’t mind spending snowy days like today wrapped up in his arms to fend off the cold touch of winter.

The fog of distraction lifts momentarily—you see that you’re further along than before, close to the end of the first level. When you finally make it and head on to the second, joy overwhelms you.

 _Finally._ “We did it,” you say quietly.

Sam’s response is a breathy laugh that brushes your neck, sending a wave of heat coursing through your body before he steps back and leaves you on your own for the second level. “Yeah, we did. We make a good team, huh?”

You turn to face him, the game forgotten, and reach out to grab his hand. “Yes. Thank you.”

Sam smiles, beaming with pride, but the look soon falters. “Wait—the game.”

“Forget the game,” you say, stepping forward to close the gap between him and you. “I want to thank you properly.”

As your mouths meet, the screen on the machine says, “Game Over.” but in your opinion, today is the day you’ve won.

**Author's Note:**

> Because more love for Sam needs to exist, both in-game and outside of the game.


End file.
